


Hypotheticals

by Keirra



Series: Swtor Prompts and Shorts [16]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 04:43:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15089234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keirra/pseuds/Keirra
Summary: Doc can't sleep, not with his mind racing trying to figure out where he stands with Deena, but he isn't the only one whose mind won't let them rest.





	Hypotheticals

Doc wasn't sure what drew him out of his room in the middle of the night cycle on The Defender, Teeseven was manning the bridge so everyone could get some much deserved rest but he couldn't sleep for some reason. 

At least he was denying he knew why he was awake. In truth he knew exactly what was keeping his mind, and body as he paced along the ship’s lower deck, running in circles. Deena. 

Everything about her seemed to draw him in. The way she had smiled when they met and he called her “gorgeous” for lack of a name, and the more obvious reason that it was true. The way she never hesitated to help someone in need, even if that person happened to be an enemy. The way she moved when she fought. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but when she first stormed into the medcenter, lightsabers humming, all graceful movement and violence, he almost shot his own hand with the hypospray he was holding. He hadn’t done that since he was an intern in medical school.

And now she was so much more to him than the beautiful Jedi who saved his, and his patient’s, butts. She was a friend, a comrade. Someone he had promised himself to do everything in his power to keep from harm and barring that, to patch up to the best of his ability. 

He had only slightly been joking when he told her he was surprised she had survived so long, with just a droid (and not even a medical droid) and Kira at her side. The more he heard of their adventures before fate brought her to his medcenter on Balmorra, the more he felt the truth of the sentiment. Fighting gangs, pirates, rakghouls, sith lords and even the darth that murdered her master, with barely more medical attention than a medpac and stims? Doc was often called reckless, but even he knew that was tempting fate. 

No, the more he learned about Deena, what she did day in and out and how dangerous it was - and that regardless of the danger to her person she never said no - the more certain he felt that joining her crew had been the right choice. Someone had to keep her alive, and who was better qualified than he?

But he hadn’t foreseen this. The way she was always on his mind when they were apart, which admittedly wasn’t a common occurrence since he accompanied her on her missions as often as she would have him, or the way when she walked into a room she immediately commanded his full attention. He had even trailed off mid sentence when arguing with Kira the other day and was so distracted by her presence he couldn’t even remember what Kira had been harping on him about when she ducked back out of the room.

Now Doc was no stranger to beautiful women, he had kept company with more than his share in his time after all, but there was something different about how he felt toward the Jedi he had pledged his service to. And there was the crux of the problem. Jedi. Admittedly he hadn't met many before, and knew only the bare bones of what it meant to be a Jedi, but he was fairly sure someone had told him once that they were, and the very thought sent his teeth on edge, celibate. 

Just the thought of a beautiful, healthy woman like her never experiencing the pleasure he knew she deserved made him almost sad. The thought was not one he liked to entertain.

But if she was celibate, why did she flirt with him? He hadn’t imagined all of that, right? Even when they first met back on Balmorra, she not only allowed him to flirt but blatantly rose to meet him quip for quip. He could still remember the first thing she said to him, her cheeks adorably flushed (from exertion, or embarrassment he would never know), and smiling. 

“Relax handsome, I’d never let anything bad happen to a nice guy like you.”

Not the reaction you expect from a celibate space monk when you hit on them in the middle of a warzone. 

A crash from above, something colliding with the metal flooring of the ship and echoing throughout the halls, jolted him out of his racing thoughts. Curious, since both Deena and Kira had retired after dinner, he went to investigate. 

He found the source of the noise in the galley, but wasn’t sure if he should enter when he saw who it was. 

Deena was sitting on the floor, backed into a corner with her knees pulled into her chest and face hidden in her arms. She wasn’t making any noise, but from the slight quivering of her shoulders he was fairly sure she was crying. 

On the floor next to her was the kaff pot, on its side and dripping water on to the metal grating. She must have dropped it, or possibly thrown judging on the volume of the crash. 

Figuring the least he could do was pick it up and dry the floor before someone slipped, he stepped into the room. He was sure he hadn’t made a sound, years of working behind enemy lines had taught him to step carefully, but the moment he moved her head snapped up. Her face was red, eyes puffy from crying, and in the moment before she schooled her face back to its normal Jedi serenity setting, the pain in her eyes felt like a knife in his chest. 

“Hey,” he said softly, not wanting to upset her more, “are you alright?”

She nodded, pushing herself up to her feet quickly. Once on her feet she swayed a bit and had to place a hand on the wall to balance herself. 

Doc wasn’t consciously aware of moving, just that suddenly he was at her side, hand holding her other arm to steady her. 

She looked up at him, “I’m fine Doc.”

“You’ll forgive me if I don’t believe you,” he said, wrapping his other arm around her shoulders. “Come over here and sit down for me.” Deena let him guide her away from the wall and over to one of the plush couches that lined the far side of the room. She sank into the cushion and he could see the exhaustion in her which begged another question. 

“Deena, what are you doing making kaff at this time of night? You should be asleep.”

She shook her head, looking away from him, “I can’t.”

“Insomnia?” He guessed, “you should have said something. I can give you something to help with that, something better than kaff at any rate.”

She turned to look at him, “that’s not the problem Doc. I  _ could _ sleep but I won’t get any rest.”

Doc met her gaze, trying to puzzle out her words since she was dancing around the issue. He searched her face for a clue, one he got when her Jedi mask slipped again and he could see the haunted look in her eyes. 

“Nightmares?”

She nodded. “Every night.”

“How long has this been going on?”

She turned away, hiding her eyes. 

Doc reached out and gently tilted her chin back up to see her face, “Deena, how long has it been since you slept? Like really slept?”

“When I was imprisoned on Alderaan, before Master Orgus died.”

He thought about over the brief recounting he had gotten of their earlier missions, counting out about how long it had been since she was on Alderaan before he met her. 

If his math was even close to right, it was at least a month. Maybe more. 

“Oh Beautiful,” he sighed, once again wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer to his side. In her exhausted state she let him, and even let her head fall onto his shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it? I know I’m not that kind of doctor, but sometimes just talking about things can make it better.”

Deena shook her head lightly against his shoulder, “but I am a Jedi and should be better. I should be able to release all of this into the Force and never let it rule me like this.”

“What are you talking about?”

She was quiet for long enough he thought she might not answer before she started chanting softly, “there is no Emotion, there is Peace. There is no Ignorance, there is Knowledge. There is no Passion, there is Serenity. There is no Chaos, there is Harmony. There is no Death… there is the Force.”

Doc had never heard those words before, wasn’t sure what they meant, but somehow they made him feel hollow inside. No emotion? No passion? Peace, serenity and harmony could only take one so far, and made for a rather dull and unsatisfying life as far as he was concerned.

“What is that?” He asked finally, when he was sure she had finished. 

“It’s the Jedi Code. The one I was raised and trained to follow, the one I try and live my life by and this is the first time I have struggled with that.”

“The Jedi don’t believe in emotions?”

“It’s not a matter of belief, more a matter of controlling them,” she laughed softly. “Balance is very important for a Jedi, we walk a fine line between the light and dark. The main difference between a Jedi and a Sith is that we reign in our emotions and make choices based on logic and morality, while Sith let their passions and greed lead them to the dark side.”

“But,” Doc asked, hesitating a moment before continuing, “what about love? Isn’t that an emotion worth embracing?”

“Compassion is, yes, and that is a kind of unselfish love. Romantic love, we are taught, is forbidden. It is akin to attachment, to a person over duty, and Master Orgus once told me that ‘attachments always lead to suffering. Passionate emotions can destroy a person - and Jedi destroyed by passion become something terrible.’ Love is something a Jedi who wants to honor the Code cannot risk.”

“And you? How do you feel about that?”

“It was never an issue, not for me. I have never struggled to accept that tenant of the code until recently.”

“Recently?”

She reached up and brushed his hand that rested on her shoulder with her fingers. “You test me. I feel drawn to you in a way I never have to any other sentient being. It’s dangerous.”

“I refuse to believe love is dangerous Deena. Hell isn’t the freedom to enjoy prosperous lives filled with love what the Republic fights for? What you fight for?”

She nodded minutely again, “but that emotion could destroy me. Say I fell in love with… a man. And he died, or was hurt, and because of my attachment I am driven to anger. To vengeance. I responded to Master Orgus’ death that way, momentarily blinded by my need to avenge his death. It took the destruction of an entire planet, millions of lives lost, to pull me from that place. If I had faced Darth Angral in that state, especially when Kira was forced to fight me I don’t know what could have happened….” she shivered where she was pressed against Doc’s side.

“Well,” he said tightening his arm around her and rubbing her arm to chase away the shivers, “this… man you could fall in love with, he will just have to be careful. Keep himself safe so you won’t have to face that choice.”

“But I am already afraid of losing him,” she murmured sleepily against his shoulder, “I don’t want to lose you.”

He looked down at her in shock, but sleep had finally overtaken her. He wasn’t sure if she knew what she had said. He had figured the “man” she mentioned was him, but she had been carefully dancing around that to avoid voicing her growing feelings. Feelings he was now, more than ever, sure he shared. 

It figures, he thought, I’m finally falling in proper love and it’s even returned, but it comes with all these complications. The least of which being that keeping himself safe at all times to spare her this new worry was easier said than done in their line of work. It was a bit scary, knowing she cared enough about him that it could potentially destroy everything she stood for, but he couldn’t imagine giving up his place at her side. A less selfish man would jump ship, find somewhere else to work and let her go on with her life, but one with no love? No passions? Was that even life? 

There was a quiet whistle from the doorway from Teeseven, and Doc’s droid was rusty but he was almost sure the droid was asking if everything was alright. 

“We’re good here little guy,” he said, speaking softly to avoid waking her before gesturing at a blanket on the far end of the sofa, “can you pass me that though? I don’t want her to be cold.” 

The droid whistled it’s assent, rolling into the room and using one of it’s retractable arms to grip the edge of the blanket and pull it over enough for Doc to reach it with his free arm. 

“Thanks buddy,” he said, spreading the blanket over Deena, making sure it wrapped around her completely. The droid whistled, beeped twice and rolled out of the room. 

Alone again, Doc adjusted himself slightly to get a bit more comfortable since it didn't look like he was going anywhere any time soon. 

And honestly, there wasn’t anywhere he would rather be.


End file.
